


simple harmonies

by quiettewandering



Series: Spirk Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, author attempts to be artsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 17:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15224141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiettewandering/pseuds/quiettewandering
Summary: Spock solves one of the most important equations of his life: love.





	simple harmonies

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from @sierra198466: After Beyond, Spock dumps Uhura and he realizes he loves Jim. He then finds out Jim has loved him since Into Darkness.
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this. This takes place sometime after Beyond and before their next space mission.

Spock has never known himself to do what humans refer to as “space out”. On the contrary, he does mental exercises daily to make sure his mind remains sharp. When there is a moment that he finds his thoughts floating from the current situation, he is normally able to bring himself back to reality.

However, during the whole conversation he and Nyota have, all he can seem to truly focus on are the wind chimes that are outside the coffee house door.

His mother had them, at their house. She used to say that it was the last non-electronic object that humans had to play music for them. The wind rarely gusted enough on Vulcan to make them sing; but whenever it did, she would look out the window and have one of her mysterious smiles that Spock never quite did figure out.

Like mother, like son. It is he who is transfixed, looking out the window, unable to look away as the chimes gently bump each other in the wind.

“We should end our romantic involvement with each other,” he says as Nyota takes a breath, ready to launch into the next part of her argument with him.

She stops. Blinks at him. “What did you say?”

The wind picks up again, knocking the littlest chime into the largest. A melodically odd tone results. “We should end our romantic relationship,” he repeats.

Nyota, for the first time since he’s known her, is speechless.

* * *

 

“Do you think that if we flew far enough in space, we could find the end of time?” Jim asks. He’s propped against the railing, staring out into the San Francisco bay.

Spock stops his vegetable gyro’s trajectory toward his mouth (it’s from a food truck that Jim insisted on them eating at; “the best in the galaxy” were his words). He frowns at his friend. “Modern physics suggests that a concept such as the ‘end of time’ is—”

Jim waves his hand, cutting Spock off. “I don’t want the science crap, any theorized evidence. What do you think?”

“Why do you wish to find the end of time?”

Jim shrugs. His hair is being lightly brushed by the wind and there’s a melancholic smile on his face that Spock cannot understand.  “If you can find the end, maybe you can trace it back. To where you want to go.”

Spock takes a thoughtful bite of his dinner and swallows before saying, “Even the ocean has an end. Technically.”

“It does, Spock,” Jim says, looking as if he’s seeing Spock for the first time, “it sure does.”

* * *

 

An hour after Spock leaves Nyota at the coffee shop, he receives an angry call from Doctor McCoy. He lets his phone ring itself to voicemail. The message is about as emotional as he expected.

_“Listen you crazy hobgoblin—Nyota just told us what the hell you did. Just breaking up with her like that, no explanation, then walking out? Where the hell do you get off? You better believe that I’m going to kick that green ass of yours into the sky, and make sure you don’t get on the ship for that 5-year-mission—”_

Spock deletes the message.

He stops at a crosswalk. People jostle his shoulder as they walk by. As is typical in the crowded streets of San Francisco, he feels fleeting snatches of their emotions and thoughts as they touch him: grocery lists running through people’s heads, worrying about who will pick up the kids at daycare, annoyance at how hot and sticky it is for a day in December.

Spock remains standing there. Staring into space, once again. The sound of windchimes stuck in his ears.

* * *

 

Spock tries to forget the day Jim got injured and almost died in his arms.

Peace talks with the people indigenous to Echo IV had not gone as expected. After refusing relations with the Federation, things had become tense. Jim, trying to calm down the situation, had gotten caught in the crossfire.

Spock’s hands were uncharacteristically shaking when he tore Jim’s shirt open to apply medical attention. McCoy was on the ship, since there was no anticipated danger at this meeting. Around the corner, the security team tried to manage the situation. Any requests for beam-ups were greeted with static.

“Spock.” Jim’s hand, stained with blood, caught Spock’s. “Leave it, find a way to get to the ship, just—”

“Cease talking.” Spock applied pressure to Jim’s wound. His mind was spinning. He could feel Jim’s agony through his skin.

“Get to the ship. Just be safe,” Jim choked out as he slipped from consciousness.

Spock tried to hail the Enterprise countless times. He helplessly watched as Jim’s face grew paler. Most of the security team had died, and Spock knew that soon it’d be him and Jim left. That Jim would die, either by someone else’s weapon or from his own wounds.

And all Spock could do is watch.

By the time the ship was finally hailed, and they were finally beamed aboard, McCoy had to stick a hypo into Spock’s neck to stop his body’s shaking.

It took five crew members to pull him off the unconscious captain.

It was standing over Jim’s sickbed, with Jim patched up and well and sipping water from a straw, that he finally relaxed. Breathed. He didn’t listen to the words that Jim said. He only watched his face, alive with emotions, and his lungs, expanding with breath.

* * *

 

It takes the whole afternoon before Nyota finally answers her comm. Spock is walking on the Starfleet Academy campus, which is empty due to the holidays, when his pocket buzzes.

“I wish to say I’m sorry,” Spock says, in a rush, before she can hang up.

She sighs angrily on the line. “I knew you weren’t a smooth talker, Spock, but, this... this takes the fucking cake.”

“I realize that I was … too forward.”

“ _Too forward_?” she yells. “You didn’t even give me warning! One minute we’re arguing about me spending time on Vulcan with you, the next you’re dumping me in broad daylight! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I do not know.”

“Well…” She sighs again. “It’s not like I didn’t see it coming. But the way you did it, it just—” There’s a silence. “I’m pissed at you, Spock. And I will be for a long time. Don’t call me again, okay?”

“Underst—” The comm link cuts out. He pockets the device, and stands by a large oak tree.

A cadet walks by in his uniform and shouldering a backpack. He looks surprised that someone else is on campus before giving Spock a wry, understanding smile.

* * *

 

“What was your mother like?”

Jim is lying on the floor of Spock’s living room apartment, wine glass clutched in his hand. He stares up at Spock innocently.

“Why are you asking such a question?” is Spock’s reply.

“Tell me about your mom, and I’ll tell you about my dad.”

“You never knew your father.”

Jim lets loose a laugh. “Low blow, Spock. I know enough, okay? Now, tell me.” He sits up, legs crossed. “Just _one_ thing.”

Spock doesn’t think about his mother often. It threatens his control.

But it’s Jim who’s asking.

“She loved nature,” Spock says. “She always tended faithfully to a garden in the backyard, and would cry if a plant died.”

“A _happy_ thing about her, Spock.”

“I did not know these facts had to be so specific in nature.”

Jim raises his eyebrows, stares at Spock expectantly. Spock relents. “Very well, she... “ He pauses. “I never understood her. She seemed to have many secrets.”

Jim rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “I’ll never get anything out of you, will I?”

“Perhaps give me an example of what your father was like, so that I may see what you mean.”

Jim grins. “All right. Mom said that he used to sing to her all the time. He was really good at it.”

“You did not inherit this talent,” Spock observes.

“What? I’m awesome!”

“I have heard you in our adjoining bathroom on the ship.”

Jim laughs, a full-bodied one where his head is tilted back and his golden hair catches the light of the setting sun. “You’re such a jerk, you know that?”

Spock lets a small smile tug his lips.

Jim’s laughter dies down, and he takes a sip of wine. In the silence, Spock offers, “My mother loved music. Her favorite object in the house was the wind chimes that hung just outside our kitchen window.”

There’s a sad way about Jim’s eyes when he says, “I wish I could have met her.”

Spock feels something fissure his heart. “As do I.”

On his birthday a few weeks later, Jim showed up at his apartment with a small, blue windchime. Spock stared at it for approximately 9.78 seconds before accepting the gift.

* * *

 

Spock finds a bench to sit on the harbor boardwalk. The sun is dipping low in the horizon, making the ocean seem to glow.

He does not want to return home, just yet.

Since the coffee shop, his mind has been restless. Unordered. Jumping between memories and realities as if he were a living television set.

He remembers the last time he was on this boardwalk. The image of Jim is in his mind, face happy and open, eyes discerning the sea in front of him. Spock has no doubt that he could take the world by storm if he wished; the galaxy included.

Jim could have anything if he set his mind to it. Could have anyone. It’s illogical; if these are the facts, then what does Jim need with an awkwardly socialized half-Vulcan?

Spock frowns at his shoes. The idea of Jim _not_ needing him… is frightening. When Spock himself needs Jim so.

Spock’s gaze snaps to the ocean. The pieces in his mind burst together in a colorful, clarifying light. 

* * *

Jim is at his apartment door when Spock returns, sitting against the door. He quickly scrambles to his feet when he sees Spock.

“Where the hell were you?” Jim asks angrily. “I’ve been calling and looking everywhere!”

“I have just been to your apartment,” Spock explains, unsteadily. “You were not there.”

“Because I’ve been waiting for you, you idiot! I’ve gotten hundreds of messages from Bones, Uhura, even _Chekov_ has heard about it and is upset—”

“I regret worrying you,” Spock supplies, lamely, as he takes out his keys. He walks into his living room as Jim follows him through the door.

“What, you just break Uhura’s heart and then take off? And don’t even tell anyone where you were? You’ve been M.I.A all day!”

Spock places his keys on the coffee table. “I am aware.”

Jim puts both hands on his hips, glaring at him. “So, what, no explanation? You’re just gonna stand there?”

“I was attempting to find you. I need to—”

“Then why didn’t you _call_ me, stupid? Why did I have to—”

“I am in love with you.”

Jim stares at him. His mouth remains slack, his eyes wide. “What did you just say?”

“It’s why I was attempting to find you.” Spock sits on his couch, hands on his knees to stop them from shaking. “I have come to this realization 3.57 hours ago. I regret not realizing and telling you sooner. And I regret not knowing this as I was ending my relationship with Uhura. But I assure you, I will give her an explanation.”

Jim stares at him. “You’re kidding me.”

“I assure you, I am not.”

“How can you just—sit there and deliver that news like it’s the fucking _weather_?”

“It is a fact. I thought it best for you to know.”

Jim puts a hand on his forehead, shaking his head. “Uhura’s gonna kill me.”

“I understand that the likelihood of you reciprocating my feelings is 5.456%,” Spock says, almost too quickly, “due to the fact that you have not shown amorous feelings for me in the past. I understand if you were to open my position to applicants, as working with me may now seem impossible. If you were to—”

“Spock.” Jim walks to the couch and stands close enough so that their knees touch. He stares down at him. “Shut up.”

Spock obeys. Jim kneels down to Spock’s eye level.

“Do you remember when I died?”

Spock goes tense. “I do not see what that has to do with—”

“Spock. Just answer the question.”

“Of course I remember. It is a stupid question.”

Jim closes his eyes in frustration. “God, you’re making this difficult.” He takes a breath and opens his eyes. “When I died, I couldn’t really get words out. And there was that… damn glass between us. So I couldn’t tell you what was really in my head.”

“Tell me what?”

Spock’s breath hitches when Jim is suddenly taking his hand, holding it between his. “I’ve loved you for years, you stupid Vulcan.”

Spock’s heart feels to have stopped. He takes time to illogically memorize the moment; the shadows casting on Jim’s face, the complete stillness in his normally animated expression. But only a moment, because Spock cannot stay still any longer and is framing Jim’s face with his hands, bringing him forward in a very human, very emotional kiss.

“Finally,” Jim breathes on Spock’s lips between kisses, moving to bracket Spock’s legs with his. They fit together flawlessly; effortlessly. As if the small moments between them were meant to lead to this.

In the distance, on the flight of the wind, Spock can hear the chimes.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you thought <3 i will give you virtual cookies.


End file.
